Growing up, quiche featured weekly at the Haapaniemi household. It was mom's go-to for last-minute meals, as it could be as simple as frozen pastry, eggs, and milk, but could also serve as a base to bring together any hodgepodge of leftovers - chicken and cheddar, rice and corn, ham and pea. No matter the combination, it was always delicious and satisfying meal.

More late harvest baking. I can't seem to stop. Apples and pears are just too good, and we've discovered a farmer who supplies the best of them in a range of varieties at our local market. The closer we get to the end of their season, the more absurd my Sunday haul gets - I want to take full advantage before they disappear!

I haven't used strict measurements here, not only because Jamie doesn't bother with them, but more importantly because you don't need them. Slow braising any meat like this is not an exact science - it's just about using good ingredients and giving things enough time so that deep, rich flavor can build and develop - this is slow braising at its finest.

I call these "New Deviled Eggs," as they are a more modern interpretation of the classic recipe, but also because they are suitable for a time of year when life begins anew - for the hens, roses and humans alike.

When it comes to cooking for others, I usually opt to serve food in its most rustic form. This way, the natural beauty of ingredients can come through - I like to see stems, skins, and seeds left intact - not to mention, the job is made a lot easier for the cook.

I am not much of a baker. I prefer the capriciousness that cooking allows, the liberty to add things here and there as you feel. Yet there are some days (usually cold ones when I don't want to leave the house) when I want to do nothing but bake. Sometimes I bake a few little, simple things, and sometimes I take on a serious project. That's what happened with this recipe; a lazy Sunday morning with no plans in the diary, a chill in the air, and a friend's birthday the next day were the perfect conditions for me to attack a cake.